Marie, Christmas presents 'n beer - together forever

Poor Marie.

I'm not asking for sympathy for my friend because everyone wants (and many have had) her husband Ernie's delicious sausage, oh no. Not for having to work with my pal Don at The Beer Store, either, though that may be a legitimate reason for condolences.

No, I ask you shed a small tear for Marie because her birthday falls on Christmas Day.

If you want to maximize your present numbers, December 25 is the absolute WORST day to have a birthday. It's all well and good if you're Justin Trudeau, because growing up the son of a Prime Minister comes with its own perks. For the rest of us, having a birthday at Christmas is a total burn.

So we decided to do something about that extremely untenable situation. Don did, anyway. He organized a party at Rib Eye Jack's Ale House in Burlington (the better to show off his new favourite craft beer bar) to give Marie that birthday bash she deserved.

And to the surprise on no one, I used the party and the 90 minute drive to Burlington as an excuse to drive another 40 minutes each way to Niagara Falls, N.Y. to do a little cross-border beer shopping.

Now, when I say cross-border beer shopping, I really mean cross-border beer smuggling, as day trip shopping excursions are subject to duty and nobody wants to pay duty; least of all me. But nobody - least of all me - wants to end up in jail, on my government's blacklist, or, worst of all, beer-less because my prizes were confiscated.

So a strategy was in order.

In September I took the advice of the friendly clerk at Consumer's Beverages in Niagara Falls (just past the I-90) and put a couple of bottles up front with me to declare to customs. You know, as a show of honesty. The other six or seven bombers were hidden under a trunk load of work clothes, tools and assorted crap or under the seats up front.

Worked like a charm, despite a wrong turn at duty free forcing me to re-enter Canada TWICE.

This time I used the same strategy. A six-pack of Grapefruit Sculpin from Ballast Point occupied the front seat with me, while four bottles were stashed in the trunk and a fifth was hidden under the passenger seat. A couple of Ruinations (one for me and one for Don, because he cries like a baby if I don't get him one) and an Arrogant Bastard from Stone Brewery; a Beer Camp IIPA from Sierra Nevada with my friend Cat in mind; and a Yellow Snow IPA from Rogue.

I wanted to buy more but I didn't want to push my luck.

And then I headed back to the border, where I picked the wrong lane, waiting 45 minutes while cars to the left of me and cars to right of me were waved through without delay.

At least nobody was getting the "open your trunk, please" treatment.

Finally it was my turn and the friendly officer, after giving me a funny look when I told her I drove from Burlington to Niagara Falls for "six awesome IPAs" processed me very quickly. She handed my my passport back ("yes!"), with a little yellow slip of paper sticking out of it ("wait, what?") and said, "park over there where it says Canada."

Damn.

So I parked. And watched two burly young men appear from the mist and tell to step out of the car, pop the trunk and wait on the bench until they were done ransacking my car.

All I could think was I'm screwed. I am royally screwed.

One guy started pawing though my trunk while the other pushed the driver seat forward and started searching under the seat.

I was SO screwed. They're going to put me in jail. They're going to red flag me for the rest of my life. They're going to take my beer.

They're going to take my damn beer.

After five minutes - maybe less - of searching, they called my over for the final interrogation. "Why did you come all this way for six beers, sir?" I was asked. "It's only from Burlington. And the IPAs are fantastic," I said. "Burlington is 40 minutes away," he countered. "That's why we pulled you aside. We couldn't figure out why you would drive all this way for six beers."

I muttered something about the awesome ales and hoped there wouldn't be any cavity searches at the end of this ordeal. And then the talkative one told me to have a good day and both of them walked away.

I can go? I'm not going to Customs Jail? How the hell did you not find the beer?

None of those thoughts were expressed out loud and in fact, by the time I asked myself the third question I was already gone and headed north through Niagara Falls (Canada, of course) and on my way to Rib-Eye Jack's in Burlington.

I think next time I will have to devise a new smuggling strategy. I only own so many underwear.

The delay at the border made me a little late for the party, but considering I was driving home after, that was probably a good thing.

Don, who was out having a smoke, met me outside the bar to accept the bottle I got him and to tell me some shocking news: he was going to 'gift' the bottle of Stone Ruination IIPA. That's right. He was planning to give away Ruination; the beer that sends him into fits of rapturous delight. Oh, the sacrifice.

The recipient of his largesse was the decidedly diminutive Kylie, the "uber knowledgeable Beer Technician to the stars" - I quote Don here, with the middle two words her official title - who would be one of our servers this night.

Don's been talking up her beer skills for weeks and I have to agree, though she (and a bunch of other beer experts) can't seem to pick out the smell of gym socks in a double IPA so she isn't perfect. That's right: gym socks and its pungent aroma was what the entire table got from a beer she recommended.

I'll get to that beer - which was delicious, by the way - in a moment, but I should introduce the party goers at this birthday bash. Cat and our friend Blair couldn`t make the event, so it turns out that I was the only person who didn`t work for The Beer Store or was related to someone who did.

The boys from Hologram enjoying Michelle's divine cake

There was Marie, the lady of honour sitting at the head of the table drinking Mill Street Cobblestone Stout, Anchor Steam Lager and some whiskey and God knows what else (and looking fresh as a daisy); her husband Ernie, he of the famous sausage, sucking back Mill Street Organic Lager, and their son Marc. There was Gord, who stepped up his game from his usual Coors Light to join Ernie with Mill Street`s Organic Lager`and who was in his glory razzing Don, who seemed to disappear every two minutes to secretly chat on his flip phone (a woman? I think so); there was Michelle and Ken. I don`t know what Ken was drinking but Michelle was seen sipping on a Grapefruit Radler which isn`t actually beer but I forgave her because she brought the birthday cake - a cookie crust chocolate cake with this whipped cream filling that was so good that the excellent two-man band had to have some too.

And then there were gym socks. Kylie ceremoniously brought out a bottle of Innocente Brewery's Guilty Conscience, a double IIPA that smelled like a junior high school locker room. Seriously. This aroma was shared round the table and the reaction was the same each time: the wrinkled nose of disgust. Don and I liked the beer though - there was grapefruit and resiny pine on the palate  with quite an enjoyable bitter finish - but that aroma! Thing was, Kylie didn't get it, and neither did the reviews on Rate Beer that I read, though one writer noted a 'sweaty tropical fruit aroma.'

I'll go with gym socks.

Rib Eye Jacks is quite the bar. It has an extensive craft beer selection, as well as whiskeys to satisfy every taste - and it treats its products like it treats its patrons - with reverance. The staff is extremely knowledgeable and the food is fantastic. I had the Bacon Maple Onion Burger (with a salad of course - one must watch one's girlish figure) and it was nearly as good as Michelle's cake.

I had something from Bellwoods to start - Roman Candle I think - and I also had a Anchor Liberty Ale (not as good as I remember) before finishing with a five-ounce taste of Don's pint of Boogie Monster from Indie Ale House.

And then it was time to go, after giving the birthday girl a kiss on the cheek and thanking Don for picking up my tab. (Thanks Broseph!) I was going home with bombers of Arrogant Bastard Ale (Stone); Ruination IIPA (Stone); and Yellow Snow IPA (Rogue); as well as most of a six pack of Grapefruit Sculpin (Ballast Point). And I wasn't in Canada Customs jail, which was also a good thing.

I'll be back to Rib Eye Jacks and I will be crossing the border again to get some fine IPAs when I do. I'll have a better smuggling strategy this time.

                                                                                     *

Three of the beers I brought back from the U.S. were new to me so I will take this opportunity to review them here. The Grapefruit Sculpin is a beer I have been seeking for some time, as the regular Sculpin was excellent. More grapefruit can't be a bad thing, no? Turns out, no, it wasn't. It poured a pale golden with a nice head which dissipated quickly. Lots of grapefruit on the nose and big citrus hops on the tongue. Grapefruit juice and more grapefruit juice with a little pineapple thrown in. Nice bitter finish. Excellent.

Arrogant Bastard was Stone's first offering when they opened 18 years ago and it was pretty damn good for a malty beer. Deep mahogany pour with a thick creamy and persistent head. There’s plenty of strong malt character on the nose with some dark fruits. Big and arrogant toasted malts on the tongue along with some sticky piney hops and a big bitter finish. For a malt-forward beer (not my usual wheelhouse) this was outstanding.

Yellow Snow IPA from Rogue (love the name) was a wee bit bit disappointing but still a good beer. This brew starts out golden but has a bronze finish. Mild aroma with a nice balance of crackery (if that’s a word) malts and citrusy and lemony hops. Quite drinkable but I was hoping for a little better.

Cheer and Happy New Year! And Happy Birthday Marie!

It's 11.05 ... somewhere

"You again?"

That was my greeting at Buster Rhino's when I walked in for another taste of a special brewmasters' birthday beer that had me in a perpetual state of beergasm.

Sarah, My IPA Girl's greeting-with-attitude may have been because it was my fourth trip to the bar in three days for the beer, or it could have been because the last time I saw her I spit on her.

More on that in a bit.

The beer is a Triple IPA called 11.05, named for the shared birthdays of the two brewers who collaborated on its creation (Sam Corbeil, Sawdust City and Ryan Morrow, Nickel Brook); it's alcohol count; and for its release date. And I wanted it. Bad.

And so began another damned quest.

When you live in Ontario it is often difficult, or at least impractical, to find decent IPAs and their friends. The LCBO and The Beer Store, bless their government/foreign multinational hearts, do what they can to bring us delicious beers - sort of - but it's really a hit or miss affair to find the best of Ontario's craft beer on the retail shelves.

Great beer is always available at the breweries, of course, but that brings us back to the impractical. Sure and it's all wonderful if you live in Burlington, like my friend Don, and have Nickel Brook Brewery in your backyard. Or if you live in Toronto, like my friend Cat, and have Amsterdam Brewery just down the road and any number of great breweries and brew pubs within cab distance.

But I have no such luxury living in The Shwa. There are a few new breweries around that show promise, but there is nary a decent IPA to be found. So I can either drive into Toronto or beyond or hope (often against all odds) that the awesome ale I'm seeking shows up in a nearby bar.

So when Sawdust City and Nickel Brook collaborated on a Triple IPA that was all about the hops, I was on board in a big way. But the chances of me finding the time to get up to Gravenhurst to the Sawdust City bottle shop was slim, so I was going to have to find it on tap somewhere. And with time and money issues, heading to Toronto to find it wasn't going to much easier than Muskoka.

At least Don will get his hands on this, I figured. Surely this beer will be available in Nickel Brook's bottle shop, as they are co-collaborators. But no. "None at Nickel Brook. So I'll never get one," Don lamented.

But after a few days of searching I lucked out: the good people at Sawdust City told me, via Facebook, that they sold a keg to my local, Buster Rhino's in Oshawa.

Hello!

I decided to pop by on the weekend to find out when my man Darryl was going to tap this baby, and two days later I walked into the bar after a work shift and there it was on the chalkboard.

"11.05."

I was able to keep my grin on my face, but barely. This is a Triple IPA, a rare (it's expensive and time consuming to make) style that I have enjoyed but once during my one year as a craft beer addict. It's also important to remember that big, boozy beers that clock in at 11 per cent alcohol are usually big and boozy because it is extremely difficult for the brewer to mask all that booze.

11.05 - Triple awesomeness in a glass

Morrow and Corbeil must have some certified mad skills, because this beer is billed as a hop monster with little boozy malt character. Kinda of like my dream beer recipe.

So yeah, I was excited. Both brew masters are at the top of their games so I was anxious to see if the beer would taste as advertised.

"11.05 please," I said to the lovely Jessica, who gave me a smile and really, really HUGE and intoxicating citrus hops in return. Grapefruit, mango and bitter orange, as well as lots of resiny pine dominate the tongue and the finish is all pine, silky smooth and chewable caramel malts and more citrus, with just a touch of booze at the end.

Out-freaking-standing beer.

Halfway through my glass I turn around and see Sarah, off-duty and enjoying a stout with her friend Courtney, two amigos who recently returned from a beer-cation to California. Now Sarah, all of 24, has tons more experience in the world of IPAs than I, and as the keg was tapped the day before I knew she had already tried it and I was eager to get her take on it.

"My IPA Girl," I cried, sauntering over to their table in my best Ron Burgundy walk. "Tell me you agree 11.05 is amazing!"

"It's okay," said the woman who has enjoyed a Heady Topper or two and has (at the time of writing) a bottle of Pliny the Elder resting in her fridge. "But I've had better."

Truth, I admit, but still blasphemy.  She clearly needed more convincing. "Sarah," I sputtered, quite literally, as a small projectile of excitement left my mouth and landed - ping! - on her jacket shoulder.

All style and class, this guy.

"Oops," said I, wiping it off cool as a cucumber and continuing my nattering about the awesomeness of the beer while Courtney looked at me like I was slightly insane. "It's a Triple IPA that's all about the hops," I reminded Sarah. "Why don't you think it's fantastic?"

"I like it," she answered. "I've just had...better."

Maybe so, Sarah. But it's the best Triple IPA I've ever had and I was back the next day for some more. Twice, actually:  I returned for lunch and then had a nightcap after another shift of my keeps-me-in-gas-and-beer part-time job. Each time the beer tasted a little better than the last.

I also learned a few things about the bar business along the way. I popped in one afternoon to find Darryl and Julian, a sales manager with Flying Monkeys Brewery, in the midst of an animated discussion about IPA drinkers in Oshawa and the number of empty kegs littering Buster Rhino's back room.

Caps of Wisdom from Flying Monkeys 

It seems Darryl would prefer not to pay deposits on kegs if certain sales reps didn't pick them up for return, and Julian would really like it if Buster Rhino's could carry Smashbomb Atomic on tap.

I promised Julian I would be there every day (and blog about it to my friends) if he and Darryl could strike a deal. Darryl was hesitant on his end because Hoptical Illusion didn't sell well when he carried it during the summer and Julian didn't want to commit to solving the empty keg issue until he spoke to his boss.

I left them to their negotiations.

Eventually, all good things must pass, and on the seventh day the keg of 11.05 was drained. I know this because on the eighth day I entered the bar full of hope, only to see that faith dashed when I noticed the chalkboard did NOT contain the numbers 11 or 05.

On the bright side, a keg filled with 11 per cent ABV, premium-priced beer, took just a bit over a week to empty. In a town that many would have you believe doesn't have many IPA drinkers, I think that's pretty impressive. I know I didn't drink it all myself.

But still. I wanted one more day.

Jessica, seeing the look on my face, was sympathetic. "I'm sorry we are out of 11.05, but we have something new you might like: Citraddiction from Great Lakes. They tell me it's all juicy hops. I think you'll like it."

"Juicy hops, huh? I guess that'll do. I'll take a pint, please."


**

I've been hearing for nearly a year about the greatness of Lake Effect IPA from Great Lakes - one of their Tank Ten series beers - so I was eagerly anticipating the release of the new batch. With a Rate Beer score of 98 and 80 IBUs, this is a beer worth waiting for.

Great Lakes, Canada's two-time Brewery of the Year, hasn't failed me yet so this has got to be a hop bomb, right?

Kind of. Maybe.

It was certainly the bomb on the nose, with a big blast of grapefruit, followed by more grapefruit and lemon with some pine at the end. But I was looking for more bracing bitterness than was delivered so I was a wee bit disappointed. Still a fine IPA, but not in the class of My Bitter Wife, another Great Lakes IPA that was my Mid-Summer Beer of the Year.

Citraddiction - A world class session beer

Citraddiction was another story. This Great Lakes beer is single-hopped with Citra, just like the brewery's excellent Karma Citra IPA, but with a lighter body - it's a 4.4 per cent session beer - and more juiciness. Waaay more juiciness.

This beer is all about the hops, with grapefruit and mango flavours fairly bursting out of the glass and lingering on my palate for what seems like forever. Or at least until the next sip. It wasn't 11.05, but it was damn good.

One of the more interesting beers I tried this year was Bog Water from Beaus. A Gruit beer, this unique brew features bog myrtle - an ancient herb used by brewers for hundreds of years (at least until the Bavarian Purity Laws came into effect) - and results in a dark, spicy ale that very nearly defies description.

I'll try anyway.

There is almost no aroma but there`s plenty of bready malts on the tongue, along with some earthiness and an eclectic mix of spices. Some are lager-like and others not so much. Must be the myrtle. A gift from my daughter for baby-sitting my wonderful grandkids, this is an interesting beer, to say the least.

My first saison is now in the books after I found Sorachi Ace from Brooklyn Brewery in the LCBO recently. This highly regarded beer - 98 on Rate Beer - showcases sorachi ace hops from Japan and is billed as `Sunshine in a Glass.`

I agree.

Bright and zesty with a creamy head, this beer is all lemon and spices on the tongue. It's wonderfully carbonated with a crisp finish that includes lots more light citrus and Belgian spices. Very nice. Great, actually.

Cheers!